The Lion and The Raven
by blackkitty95
Summary: An on-going collection of Ichatrina Hogwarts AU one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

_So, I came up with this idea for a Hogwarts Ichatrina AU. And since I don't often finish the multi-chapter fics that I begin writing, I decided to make a collection of one-shots instead. The one-shots will not all be set in the same year (I think that most of them will be from when Katrina and Ichabod are in their last three years at school) and not all of them will be the same in nature (there will be fluff, humour, angst, hurt/comfort...). Anyway, I hope you'll like them!_

 _English isn't my native language, so there might be mistakes._

* * *

Ichabod Crane looked at the terrible sight before him, speechless, shocked, terrified. Katrina was lying on the floor, blood oozing from all the open wounds marring her beautiful body. Ichabod wanted to scream. He wanted fall on his knees by her side and try to make things right. He wanted to find a way to fix it. He wanted to reverse their roles, to be the one dying with no one coming to his rescue. Katrina didn't deserve to die. She had to live and make the world a better and more beautiful place with her presence.

" _Riddikulus!"_ he heard someone say behind him and then it all came back to him.

He had stood in front of the dancing mummy, dreading what he would have to face. Ichabod Crane was not afraid of things like spiders and snakes as his fellow classmates were. However, he wasn't sure just what it was that he was afraid of. He was, after all, a Gryffindor; he had been sorted in that house for his bravery.

When the boggart had focused on him, it had revealed his greatest fear: Katrina van Tassel dying right before his eyes and himself being unable to do anything to stop it.

Ichabod didn't sit around to see the shape the boggart took as their professor came to his rescue, making the creature concentrate on him instead and then saying the word that would turn said creature into something funny. Instead, Ichabod silently walked towards the end of the students' line, unable to look at anything else but his shoes. Every other student had faced huge, frightening creatures and had dealt with them, becoming the masters of their own fear. Ichabod, though, had cowered before the boggart, too shaken by Katrina's dying form to find a way to turn that into something amusing and fight the boggart successfully with his laughter.

"Here comes Romeo," a familiar voice whispered to him so that no one else would hear.

Ichabod looked at his friend but did not return her smile. He was still overwhelmed by what he had seen and had a terrible feeling that that awful sight would come and haunt him in his sleep that night.

The smile melted off Abbie's face. A concerned and worried expression replaced it. "Damn, Crane," she said, still in a low voice, "you look as pale as Nearly Headless Nick."

Ichabod heard laughter as yet another student managed to turn his boggart into something funny instead of scary. Ichabod had failed the test.

But now he knew what his greatest fear was: losing Katrina.

* * *

Their professor had not been disappointed in him. "Most people, myself included, are afraid of trivial things," he had told Ichabod. "Your fear, though...it speaks volumes about your character, my dear boy."

Ichabod had forced a small smile appear on his face to show his teacher that he appreciated his words. However, he had let himself down. What was worse, he had let himself down in the presence of his fellow third-year Gryffindors. Ichabod was already a great hero of the school, helping the weak and standing up to those who bullied them, using his magic for the good of others, even managing to tame some wild pixies and saving the entire class when they accidentally escaped their cage during a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. He had also proven himself to be the best in the short-lived (because of the constant explosions and injuries) Dueling Club.

Now he would be forever known as the wizard who could not face a simple boggart.

When he and Abbie entered the Great Hall in order to have lunch, he noticed some Slytherins looking his way and snickering. However, no one dared say anything insulting out loud. Perhaps his accomplishments over the years still inspired some awe among the students.

"Ichabod?"

He would recognise that melodious voice anywhere. It was music to his ears. He strongly believed that if he heard that voice as he drifted over to the other side, he would hold on and fight for his life.

He turned around and, sure enough, he saw her. Katrina van Tassel. Long red hair falling in curls almost to her waist, bright green eyes like emeralds burning in her skull. She was the most beautiful creature that Ichabod had ever lay eyes upon in the thirteen years of his life.

"Katrina..." he said breathlessly (she always had that sort of effect on him).

"May I have a word?"

Abbie looked at her friend and then at the third-year Ravenclaw girl - not that either of them looked at her; they only had eyes for each other. "Well," she said, "I'm really hungry all of a sudden. I'll save you a seat, Crane."

Ichabod nodded although his eyes remained focused on Katrina, drunk on the sight of her. He could look at her forever.

She cleared her throat. Clearly she had something to say but couldn't find just the right words. "I, uh...I heard about your boggart class today..."

And, just like that, the spell was broken. Ichabod, ashamed of his cowardice, looked down. Apparently he found his shoes to be very interesting that particular day.

And then, he felt Katrina's delicate hand on his arm. The unexpected touch made him look up and meet her kind eyes. "You can't believe how touched I was, Ichabod," she told him, her voice shaking with emotion. "And I fear that when we are taught about boggarts, I will see you in the state you saw me..." She paused and took a deep breath, letting the air come out from between her soft lips slowly.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Katrina," Ichabod said suddenly and with conviction. These weren't just empty words. He would never let any harm come to this girl, not if he could help it. He felt like he had known her all his life; and in another era, another lifetime, he would be on his knees before her right now, vowing to shield her from all dangers, swearing to be her knight.

"I make the same promise," she said with a smile on her face.

He returned her smile. Katrina had already proven her worth to the students and teachers at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, especially her knack for healing people ("I could certainly use someone like you, Miss van Tassel!" Madam Pomfrey had exclaimed once, sounding impressed).

Ichabod held the hand that rested on his arm. He handled it gently, like a little bird inside the shelter of his palm. He brought it to his lips and planted a soft kiss between her knuckles. He heard some more snickers from the Slytherin table (probably a result of his old-fashioned behaviour that would much better suit a gentleman of the 18th century than a thirteen-year-old boy living in the 21st century), but he paid them no mind as he noted that Katrina blushed at his gesture. At least she seemed to appreciate the good manners his parents had taught him, and that was all that mattered.

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 _Feedback is love xxx_


	2. Chapter 2

_A big, big thanks to **IchatrinaObsessedSleepyGirl** for all the support and for literally saving The Lion and the Raven from its fate (I was going to delete it). Go and read that lovely person's stories! But first read this and tell me what you think!_

* * *

"Do you believe that it's really haunted?"

Ichabod did not have to inquire as to what she was referring. They had seen the Shrieking Shack earlier, looking at it from the distance before the weather conditions drove them in the small inn known as The Three Broomsticks so that they could get some warmth back to their limbs.

"Well, ghosts are one of the least impossible things in our world, wouldn't you say?" he replied evasively and took a sip of his Butterbeer, the lovely beverage, in combination of the cozy atmosphere and the fire burning, managing to drive the cold out of him.

Katrina shook her head and smirked. "That's not really an answer," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "Well, I suppose that it could be," he said. "However, the screams coming from there, which is the reason why the villagers believed the place to be haunted, have not been heard for many years. So, was it really haunted to begin with? Or did the villagers come up with that story in order to explain what they did not understand? One cannot be certain."

"You are right, I suppose," she said with a sigh.

"Why are you asking me that?" he inquired, curious. "I mean, why are you asking now? We've seen the Shrieking Shack many times and heard of the legend even more times."

Visiting the village of Hogsmeade, the only village in Britain with no Muggles whatsoever, was a privilege that they had been enjoying since the age of thirteen. Now they were in their fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and hadn't missed a single trip to the village, whether it was on Halloween or near Christmas (like now). Ichabod loved seeing the village with Katrina, entering the various shops, walking around with her arm wrapped around his. It was a small place admittedly, so there was nothing new to discover, but Hogsmeade remained beautiful and exciting still. Besides, Ichabod would find any place lovely as long as Katrina van Tassel was there with him.

"Well," she said, "no one has actually said what haunts the Shrieking Shack - if it is indeed haunted. All we know is that screams used to be heard from there...Well...I came up with a story. It's stupid really, but you know me and my imagination..."

Ichabod smiled; he did know. All Ravenclaws were intelligent, but not all of them were dreamers. Most of them chose to rely on fact and evidence. Most of them used only logic (which was ironic since they lived in a world full of magic where things that seemed impossible could actually happen). However, there were some Ravenclaws who let their imagination run wild. Some of them invented things or came up with new spells. Katrina had produced a healing potion for headaches, but what she loved the most was creating stories. Sometimes she would look at people and make up stories about their lives based on what she saw. Other times, she would write short stories which she handed out to fellow Hogwarts students.

Ichabod's interest was definitely piqued. "I doubt that it's stupid, my little story teller," he told her. "Tell me."

She blushed at his words and cleared her throat. "Once upon a time," she began, for, to her, telling a story was like a ritual, using words to bring something to life, "a woman found a man gravely injured. The woman was kind and could not leave the man there to die. So, she took him to her home and took care of him. The recovery took a long time as the woman was a Muggle. The two of them talked, but the woman did not believe the man's stories because he spoke of magic, which she was certain did not exist. So, she blamed the man's injuries for his crazy stories.

"However, as the man got better, he persisted on his crazy talk. The woman feared that she had let a madman inside her home and was afraid for her life. The man, though, had no intention of harming her. No, the man had slowly fallen in love with the woman who so unselfishly was taking care of him. So, he decided to show to her that magic was real. He cast a spell before her very eyes. The woman didn't scream; she didn't flee either. No, she was mesmerized, magnetized by what she was witnessing. She was now convinced that the man was not a lunatic, but she didn't think of his powers as a danger to her. Because she, too, had fallen in love with him.

"So, the wizard and the Muggle spent their lives together, living as a married couple in her home. The wizard was more than happy to have a normal life and use magic for nothing more than the household chores, but he could not ignore what was happening around him. Word had spread about dark wizards and witches killing Muggles and those who interacted with them as equals. The man did not wish to upset his wife, but the matter concerned him. He had to fight.

"Therefore, he went to war with other good wizards by his side. Fearful for his wife's life while he was gone, he hid her in a hut. That way, the dark wizards would not find her and she would be safe. The woman did as her husband instructed her and remained in that place, waiting for him. She spent her days fretting for him and her nights having nightmares of him being killed in battle. Her husband was a very powerful wizard, but she couldn't help but fear that he might not return to her.

"And then, one day, word reached her of her nightmare being a reality. Her husband had fallen while fighting the witches and wizards who wanted to bring harm to his wife and those like her. Upon hearing the news, the woman fainted. Then, she spent her days crying and howling in pain that was not physical and her nights having terrible visions of how her husband might have met his fate.

"She cried until there were no more tears left for her to shed. She screamed until all voice went out of her. And then she knew what she had to do. She had no purpose anymore. A life without her husband was no life at all. And so, she killed herself and joined her husband in the afterlife. He was there, waiting for her, smiling at her, as handsome as ever. She ran into his arms and found peace. And her screams were never again heard inside the Shrieking Shack."

As Katrina finished her story, Ichabod realised that his eyes were blurry with tears that had not yet fallen. "Katrina..." he said breathlessly. "This was beautiful."

Her lovely face lit up at his words. "Do you really think so?" she asked.

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I don't care what the true story behind the Shrieking Shack is, this is the one I choose to believe."

A wide smile stretched her lips and she squeezed his hand. Overwhelmed by emotion, Ichabod kissed her on the lips right then and there, not caring at all about who might see them. Katrina responded after a moment's hesitation, apparently also unconcerned by who might be watching.

When they broke apart for much needed air, Ichabod breathed, "I love you, Katrina van Tassel."

"I love you too, Ichabod Crane."


End file.
